


Sail With Me

by OldBookshopDreams



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Future Fic, Game of Thrones Spoilers, Gendrya - Freeform, One Shot, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22049851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldBookshopDreams/pseuds/OldBookshopDreams
Summary: Arya makes her way back down the stern of the ship - vanishing silently back into her cabin. The sound of deep retching greets her, to which her eyes immediately soften with sympathy, however the amused smirk is hard to wipe from her features.“Seven Hells…Bloody boats” comes a gruff, disgruntled voice from the privy off of her quarters.She giggles softly before stretching out the large map in front of her, waiting for the source of the retching to emerge. Which he did, looking a slight shade of green, brow covered in sweat.“Don’t” he warns, looking at her briefly before the next wave bashes against the side of the ship - causing the new Lord Paramount of Storm’s End to lean into the wooden frame and breathe deeply.“You should have mentioned you get seasick” she chuckled, folding her arms smugly.************A 'fix-it' one shot that fits in around the season 8 finale. Arya/Gendry Romance. Mentions of Davos & Sansa. I really think that the episode needed at least one scene between arya and gendry to round up their storyline but alas....we didn't get it, so I wrote this which takes place where the show ended for Arya and perhaps fills in some gaps of their story.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72





	Sail With Me

Sail With Me.

It felt good to be back on a ship. The harsh biting wind against her cheeks. The salty sea spray crashing aboard the deck, tasting it once more against her lips. Arya sighs deeply, letting the tension of the past decade roll off her shoulders and into the waves below. 

The last time she was on a ship, sailing these harsh waters, everything was so uncertain. The path ahead of her so unclear. When she set sail from Bravos she knew only one thing, one truth that aided in holding her nerve as she boarded the ship that would return her to her homeland- she was ready. Ready to face her enemies, ready to avenge her family, ready to restore honour to her house. Ready to finish her list.  
She knew it was likely she would die finishing that list. That it was her sole purpose.  
But she hadn’t. And it didn't have to be.  
Her list was now forgotten, she would never need to utter it before she slept again. To do so would dishonour Sandor’s memory- his dying plea for her to live. To leave him in the crumbling remains of the Red Keep was one of the most gut-wrenching things Arya has ever had to do.  
She never could have dreamed of all that she had faced upon her return home. The fact she had a home to return to being the biggest unexpected twist in her story. But she had, she had walked the grounds and slept in her rooms. She trained in the courtyard and delivered justice for her family in it’s very halls. Winterfell would always be her home but shortly after the council meeting at the Dragon-pit, she knew she no longer belonged there. She was no longer needed there. 

As the Lords and Ladies of Westeros finalised the agreement for the future of the lands and the people who had suffered so much for so long, Arya realised for the first time, in as long as she could remember, that she no longer had a reason to be running. The Dead were gone. The Night King defeated, by her own hand. The Mad Queen was crushed under the Red Keep and the Dragon Queen slain due to her unquenchable Targaryen rage. A rage that cost too many innocent people their lives. King’s Landing was a wasteland but with the hope of a new beginning, with their new King. The North too was equally planning a hopeful and peaceful future with their new Queen. Peace seemed to be on the horizon for all. The guilt and pain of Jon’s exile to the wall was a price she knew they had to pay. A price Jon knew he had to pay. But it hurt all the same. 

As the ship she now stands on pulls out of Harbour, her ship, the crew begin work on preparing for a fine start to a long journey. They nod and bow to their captain, awe in their eyes at her position at the helm, ready to follow the bringer of the dawn to the edge of the world. As far West of Westeros as they could go. Once port had disappeared behind them, and nothing but pure light blue surrounds them, Arya makes her way back down the stern of the ship - vanishing silently back into her cabin. The sound of deep retching greets her, to which her eyes immediately soften with sympathy, however the amused smirk is hard to wipe from her features. 

“Seven Hells…Bloody boats” comes a gruff, disgruntled voice from the privy off of her quarters. 

She giggles softly before stretching out the large map in front of her, waiting for the source of the retching to emerge. Which he did, looking a slight shade of green, brow covered in sweat. 

“Don’t” he warns, looking at her briefly before the next wave bashes against the side of the ship - causing the new Lord Paramount of Storm’s End to lean into the wooden frame and breathe deeply.  
“You should have mentioned you get seasick” she chuckled, folding her arms smugly - her stance effortlessly balanced, despite the oceans consistent cascading against the walls of the ship. She looked on as the boy who she once would have followed to the end of the world for - the same boy who, now a grown man, was doing that very thing for her- struggled to maintain his composure in the cramped, rough conditions surrounding him. Yet despite his unsteady legs he couldn't look more suited for sea-life, once the nausea cleared and his attention fell completely upon her.  
He smiles and straightens before defensively replying "What can I say, never had much experience with boats... and the few I have haven't been pleasant. Plus it's not like there was exactly a great deal of time, milady….” he says, whilst cautiously stepping his way round to her side, taking her hands in his own. Whether for affection or balance, Arya wasn’t certain - But she didn't care either way.  
“…you whisked me away before I could think about the consequences” he mocks - however, a benefit of being able to become a shadow, was that Arya had time to study and see the masks that humanity wears and she knows that behind every jest is a hint of truth.  
“You have doubts?” she whispers, her head bowed as she gazes longing at their grasped hands. 

It had been a rushed decision. For Gendry to come along with her.  
After the dragon pit, Jon’s goodbye and the crowning of her brother Bran as King of the Six Kingdoms - Arya was eager to start the next chapter of her life. As they wished each other a bittersweet farewell in the soon to be Queen of the North’s chambers, the elder of the Stark daughters looked proudly at Arya.  
“If only mother could see you right now. Her youngest daughter, a sea captain.” she smirked, warmth filling her blue eyes.  
Arya smiled softly back, her hand proudly resting on the hilt of her now infamous Valerian dagger - the key to her victory during the long night. “I prefer daring voyager.”  
The last of the trunks were being carried out and the two were finally left allow to bid a proper goodbye to one another.  
“Did you mean what you said to Jon? About not coming back?” Sansa mumbled, suddenly captivated by her dress-sleeve.  
“Sort of.” She replied, taking in her sister’s discomfort at the thought of not only parting, but never seeing each other again. A thought the two had already spent many years living with.  
“Meaning?” Sansa prompted.  
Arya sighed, not wanting to explain her actions but seeing Sansa standing there looking every inch like Cateyln Stark, she couldn't deny her. “I received a Raven during the dragon pit… from Castle Black. Tormund’s still there. The free-folk are waiting for the last winter storms to pass before heading back through the wall.” she knew that would be all Sansa would need to piece together Arya’s true intentions at the dock now.  
“You want him to go with them. Desert the Night’s Watch.”  
“I want him to be free. It’s a bullshit charge and an facade of a punishment Sansa you know it”Arya argued, trying her best not to alert the guards outside of any quarrel with their new Queen.  
“Given time Bran can pardon Jon-“  
“-In ten, twenty years Sansa. Our brother doesn't deserve to waste anymore of his life.”  
The two Stark sisters looked at each and saw that neither were going to win this argument, Jon’s fate was something they both fought tirelessly for, but it was time for them all to move on. For peace and the sake of the realms.  
“So that’s why you told him you’re not coming back - that he won’t see you again - because he would never go with Tormund if he had the choice to see you once more.” Sansa states, not a trace of bitterness in her voice, just acceptance.  
“If there is anyway left in this world for Jon to have a happy life then I want him to have it. A fresh Start” Arya admits.  
“And that’s what you want too. I understand.” Her sister smiles for the first time since receiving the news at the docks. She knows what it is Arya needs now. The choice to be and do what she wants, free from the oppressive forces that have driven both their daily lives for years. Sansa had always wanted to fulfil a duty - To her family. Her House. Her People. Now she was in a position of power and strength were she could do that to a long lasting effect. Her sister needed that chance too. Still, the circumstances of which they had to go through to achieve it, hurt her deeply.  
“We can never go back to how it was - as much as I wish it” Sansa sighed, snapping her sister’s attention to her from across the room.  
“You’re about to be named Queen of the North Sansa” Arya replied dryly.  
“I’m not saying I don’t want it. I do. I want to make our reclaimed kingdom better for our people and our lands. To have peace”  
“Sansa it’s just me - you aren’t in a dragon pit right now” Arya probed, trying to lighten to mood with her jesting.  
“…I just- I wish I could have everyone there. Mother, Father. Robb and Rickon. Bran - the old Bran. I wish they could be here for this. To see that our house didn’t fall.” she explained, crossing over to stand in front of Arya.  
“I do too. And you never know… maybe, somewhere they can”  
“I don’t want you to join that list Arya, Promise me you won’t”  
“I can’t promise.”  
“No I suppose you can’t. But you can promise that you will try to come back. That this isn't the last time I’ll see you.”  
“Sansa… You have the North, Bran has 6 Kingdoms to deal with. Jon will have started a new life and I don’t know where I fit into all that. But this - this is a way to find my own path. I need to go. I want to.”  
Arya reaches out and places her hand into her sister’s. Squeezing slightly to catch her gaze.  
“But I can try.” she vows, smiling before wiping a tear away from the Redhead’s porcelain cheek.  
“You better” Sansa whispers.  
The Northmen cut the women’s goodbye short, by insisting that if they were to reach the King’s Road before nightfall they must make hast. To this Sansa, calmly yet with a sternness worthy of their late mother’s, responded with one look that immediately was rewarded with a quick apology and pleading report that the horses were ready to depart for Winterfell. She’ll make a great Queen, Arya thought. Sansa embraces Arya tightly, before withdrawing and leaving her and the now silent guard in her wake. 

As she watched her sister and the North men ride out of what remained of the Gate to the Red Keep, she couldn't help but notice the mass of Banner-men also preparing to leave the ruins of King’s landing and return to their own lands. Out of all the flags she found herself scanning, not one was for House Baratheon.  
“Lady Arya”  
She turned to see Ser Davos, doing his best to keep that kind optimistic smile in place - like everyone, keeping the trauma of the last few years at bay, in the hope that it was all finally over now. Arya greeted him silently but fondly and continued to look around, just to be sure that she couldn't spot a certain Stag emblem.  
The soft throaty chuckle that accompanied Davos’ next words seized Arya’s attention away from the courtyard swiftly. “He’s not left yet. He said he had once last place he wanted to go see.”  
The two exchanged a knowing look and if she had had more time, she would've pressed the newly appointed master of ships on the gleeful glint in his eye as he leaned in and continued to say “I’d bet on finding him at a former Master Mott’s on the steel road” before winking and smugly walking off.  
It didn't take her long to find him. 

As Davos predicted, the legitimised Baratheon blacksmith had returned to the only place he could ever really call his first home. The place he learnt the craft that had seen him into becoming the man that many thought of as one of the heroes at the Battle of Winterfell. Without the lessons learnt in the slightly scorched remains of the forge he knew so well, they never could have armed themselves against the long night.  
She watched him for a while. He paced the forge, tossing aside rubble and debris to rescue the few tools that laid beneath. As he passed the once constantly burning hearth, he paused and stared into the darkness that occupied it. She thought he looked sad for a moment. It broke her a little - to think of him as a young boy, standing in the forge’s warmth, covered in dirt. Such a volatile environment for a child. Yet, without warning or logical cause, Arya was suddenly back to the night before the battle. The gentle looks and caresses he placed upon her that night flashed in her mind. His sweet kisses and tender whispers. How could a boy who had never known real warmth been so temperate with her?  
She decided to let him hear her approach for once. Not wanting to shock him in a private moment, and when he met her gaze, which he had previously managed to avoid the majority of in the dragon pit, she once again felt that warmth that only he could provide.  
“How did you-”  
“Davos”  
Gendry laughed. It was infectious. “Nosy bugger”  
She joined him in looking around the place, trailing her hand over the few in tact wooden-benches.  
“It’s weird-” he said behind her “Seeing you here- in my old shop…whole other life”  
She stopped to look at him. To really look at him.  
In spite of the new leathers and name, he still looked like her Gendry. A new title and land would never be able to completely wash away the stoic young lad from Flea Bottom. Could never erase the history they shared - how they defended each other, kept each others’ secrets, trusted each other - and she was glad. As King’s Landing began to burn and crumble to the ground, Arya realised she was glad of the little she had found in this world to care for. Meeting Gendry would always be the only reward for the hardships she had to endure during that time.  
They hadn't really talked since Winterfell, and after Bran announced Arya’s exciting and prosperous endeavour west to the court that morning, the two knew that they didn't have the time they wished to say everything they wanted to. Instead Arya closed the distance and took his hands in her, allowing him to instinctively pull her ever so slightly closer into his towering frame.  
“I came to say goodbye. I thought… after last time… well, I owed you that”  
Gendry nodded quietly, his brow deep in thought. If they were back on the run, back with Hotpie in some forest somewhere, she would tease him about it - about the danger of a stubborn bull thinking too much. But in that moment, all she could wonder was what was on his mind and how could she ease it.  
“You’re going West” he says.  
“Yes”  
“….What’s West?”  
“Nobody knows” she knew her eyes lit up every time she said it.  
His face transforms then. He smiles, the kind of crooked soft smile that he would usually keep to himself. She often use to catch it when Hotpie and her would be arguing about something non-consequential and across the campfire, Gendry would stay silent but content being an audience member to their little performances. It adds a crinkle to his eyes and soft dimples to his cheeks. It was by far her favourite.  
“Well if anyone can find out - It’s Arya Stark”he replies confidently, his pride in her almost covering the hint of sadness in his blue eyes, shining through to her. She had no answer to that, to his utter belief in her and her successful voyage.  
She knew not to expect desperate pleas for her not to go, nor had she thought he would hate her for making this choice. She knew he would truly be happy for her as long as she was happy in herself.  
Arya had heard the whispers of others when Gendry and herself were both present in court. The ghosts of Robert and Lyanna they called them. She heard their theories and gossip of how it never ends well between a stag and a wolf. Despite the similarities the two had to their deceased relations, Arya knew Gendry could never turn her rejection of marriage into malice, blinded by grief and rage and unrequited love. He was not his father, just as Arya was not her aunt.  
He takes a deep breathe in, and Arya can feel his hands tighten in hers ever so slightly. He was about to brave.  
“What I asked of you in Winterfell- I wasn't thinking what that would mean to you. I’m sorry”  
“It’s alright” she replies instantly, because it was.  
“I know who you are Arry- I shouldn't have asked to be with you in that way. I’d blame the drink and the title but I still should have known better-” he huffs, clearly needing to get his bent up self loathing at his actions out.  
“Gend-“  
“You know me better than anyone. And I was proud that it was the same for me. That I knew who you were I-“  
“-It’s okay”  
“Arya it’s not. All those years on the run - everything we went through. Night after night lying in mud, or shit, together. Having each other’s backs, protecting each other. You were my only friend in the world. I should've known better than to ask you to be something that you’ve always said was forced on you your whole life”  
Arya looked up with curious eyes and was met with the same confident stare that so often looked back at her with trust when they were children.  
“How should you have asked me?” she heard herself say against her better judgement.  
He brought her with him as he leant back against the bench to match her eyeline. His rough calloused hand heaven when he slid it’s way along the side of her hairline by her neck. Arya struggled to focus as he whispered softly into the air between them, all her senses overloading simultaneously as his words reverberated in her mind.  
“I should have asked if I could still be your family… like I wanted to be in that cave” 

It was the most unforeseeable romantic and tender moment of Arya’s life, and the events that followed were a blur for them both. The new Captain of the Nymeria declared a one week delay in their departure for the West - of course not before she spent a considerable amount of time in a backstreet forge with a certain dark haired blacksmith.  
With Arya securing the permissions and assurance of those close to her, Gendry was sure that he could convince Davos to play his part in their plan. And despite her complete trust in the only man she’s loved - in that way - her whole life, Arya Stark was not above eavesdropping on Gendry having to tell the man he looked up to as a father, of his crucial role.  
“Tell me you are joking Lad”  
Gendry truly did try to keep the bashful grin that is certainly not befitting of a Lord of the Stormlands hidden, however it wasn't to much success. Arya equally struggled to stop an amused smirk emerging on her own face as she watched Davos pace back and forth in front of Gendry, stopping occasionally to simply stare in shock.  
“It’s a good plan- The King and Queen of the North already agree-” he says to the pacing elder, rising to rest his hands on the shoulders of the once mockingly named Onion Knight, now rightfully decreed Member of the King’s small council. Davos had proven himself more than worthy of the responsibility of his titles, yet his concern at the prospect of what Gendry was proposing was a great task for the realm and deserved the caution Davos was treating it with.  
“I trust nobody better Davos. You’ll act as Castellan of Storm’s End in my absence and see to the needs of the small folk- make the land better for them. Rebuild”  
“Whilst you go off galavanting with your lady love eh? How will the people of the stormlands see their newly appointed lord if he runs off the first chance he gets?” Davos huffs, already knowing he is fighting a losing battle but ever the voice of reason, unable to help but raises his concerns anyway.  
Arya was prepared to step in to be by Gendry’s side should he need it. But he held his head up high and smiled reassuringly at the man he deeply cared for, and Arya knew he could handle it.  
“The people right now don't give a toss about who I am. All they want is peace and someone to listen to their needs. As far as the smallfolk, and the other lords paramounts, are concerned I’m just an untested bastard legitimised by a dead queen who murdered thousands.”  
“You fought the dead at Winterfell, the only man who knew how to use and weld dragon glass. Without you we wouldn't have lasted 5 minutes. You’re a goddamn hero my boy”  
“Davos-”  
The older man sags a little and flops down into the chair beside them.  
“If I go on the mission with Arya, on behalf of The King and her for Queen Sansa and the independent North-“  
“Good bit of political strategic thinking there - a joint expedition between two newly at peace nations. Lord Tyrion help with this one eh?”  
“Then I can come back with real change. Real experience and wisdom into how to make things better. Who knows what we could discover for the good of the realm. You know it makes sense Davos, and after everything we’ve faced I know one thing for certain.”  
“and what’s that then eh?” Davos asks, still for the first time since Gendry told him.  
“It’s either this, or I walk away from it all to go and you get the job anyway… but permanently.”  
After a few moments of silence, she hears that throaty chuckle again from Davos. Arya sneaks away before she’s noticed, satisfied that nobody could refuse her stubborn bull in that moment, and smiled as the two men who fought and strived their way up from the slums of Flea Bottom grasped hands and came to an agreement on a greatly significant matter of State.  
“5 years will fly by” the younger man pledged.  
“We’ll see lad, last time you sailed away from me it took you 3 years to get back from Dragon Stone. Let’s hope that Lady Arya will be navigating your voyage” Davos gibed fondly, embracing Gendry once more.

Before they knew it, the ships were ready.  
Ser Davos, Lord Tyrion, Ser Brienne and Ser Podrick joined on the docks to watch as they departed. And the eagerness Arya had felt to start the next phase of her story was once again strong in her mind and heart, as everything she knew started to fall away and fade into the distance.  
They had told her brother and sister that they would plan to return in five years, but the truth was they didn't know if they would ever make it back. The thrill of the quest was in the unknown certainty of what they could and hopefully would discover. For Arya that thrill is what she has wanted to chase since she was a restless child. The thought of being able to have Gendry by her side throughout it all was more than she could have hoped for. To have both - all the independence and adventure her will desired, and to be able to have that as well as someone who loved and saw her completely. It had been so long since she possessed enough in her life to care about, that she had forgotten the feeling of dread and fear that came with it when the prospect of it being ripped from you could become reality.  
As she stood there in her cabin, with Gendry so close and possibly starting to doubt his decision to join her, she could start to feel the years of longing and heartache that came from being apart creeping up around her. It pained her to know that without their separation, neither of them would have gone down the path they needed to in order to survive the ordeal of the Great War.  
She continues to stare at her petite hands engulfed within his. If Gendry was going to change his mind, she would handle it with poise and humility - at least on the surface.  
It was his soft shaking that first drew her attention away from her consuming thoughts, the quiet chuckles that followed caused Arya to look up in confusion. Gendry was laughing at her.  
With a wide grin plastered across his features, he withdraws his hands from hers to cradle her face. "And you always called me a stupid headed bull" he laughs, her scrunched up facial expression causing him to continue with his sniggering.  
"Stop" Arya replied giving him a playful shove - like they did when they were children - earning more bellows of laughter from Gendry. He wouldn't let her wriggle free from him though, instead he let his hands wander down and around her shoulders, locking her petite frame in place and meeting her eye-line.  
His laughter was replaced with warm eyes and a soft tone as he spoke.  
"I have no doubts Arya, Never have" he vows, every word a lingering promise to her. "Not when you told me your real name. Not when you kept mine from Poliver. Not even when I followed you out of those gates at Harrenhaal-" he reminisces, earning a prideful smile from Arya as she recalls every moment of unwavering trust Gendry had placed in her over the years.  
"And despite everything that happened at Winterfell... my proposal...your rejection-" He still looks uncomfortable bringing it up, despite the two of them talking extensively about it once they reunited in Kings Landing. "I never doubted us - no matter what your decision was, I knew how you felt. How I felt. No matter what, that will always be enough for me” he said, his stance that of a Man who was sure of himself and his choices.  
Arya knew he didn't doubt it really - she knew deep down that this is where they were always meant to end up. Not with the Brotherhood or the Faceless Men, not in the Kingslanding or Winterfell - no she was sure, that if fate really did exist, it was always going to lead back them back to each other.  
Arya’s fears fade and that small part of her - the one that would always remind her in moments of safety that whenever the Starks seem to have everything, it was often ripped away - goes quiet for the first time in years.  
Her surviving family are safe. She’s alive. And he’s here.  
Closing the distance, she retreats into his stature - locking into place as her arms come up to cradle his neck.  
"And if I hadn't have asked you to come with me?" she cant help herself asking in a smugly fashion.  
Slowly and ever so intimately - another soft gentle gesture that would surprise her if she didn't know him - Gendry leans forward in order to let his forehead brush and rest against hers.  
"I would've waited for you to find your way back to me" He smiles "Because I knew you would. No matter how stubborn you are-" Gendry chuckles softly, earning that crooked side smile from the woman who had occupied his every thought for the last 7 years. “because you know you’re my family”  
She lets themselves have this tender moment. They have had so few in either of their lives. But she is Arya, and he is Gendry. And that’s what she loves about them.  
“Damn well knew it back in that cave” She taunts, no longer able to hold back from jesting him.  
“Oh, Alright-“ He groans, symbiotically, in time with another large sway of the ship.  
“Would’ve saved us a lot of time” she continues, poking the bear. Or Stag should she say.  
As the waves rock their surroundings, Gendry reaches up to steady himself against the ceiling, his arm wrapping around her waist. “I told you, I took the long route. Which speaking of, Captain Stark…what about now? How long a route are we really taking?” he asks. His knowing tone suggesting that he had learned the details of her goodbye to Jon, and her telling him she would not be returning to Westeros.  
“Supposing we survive the next few years-“ Arya replies, looking down briefly at the large map before them. “-and find a discovery worthy of returning, to share it with Sansa and Bran…”  
“Arya” he grumbles, pushing her to give a real answer to his question.  
She looks him in the eye and puts him out of his misery- for they both know what he’s really asking. Will we be going home together? Will you be dropping me off at the docks and leaving me after? So much for his unwavering doubt.  
“We’ll be keeping our word to Davos. Five years and we’ll return to Westeros. That’s the plan” she answers. Happiness creeps in around her heart, as the beginnings of a smile crease at the corners of Gendry’s mouth. His grip around her tightens slightly as he meets her gaze.  
“And then what? We sail off again on another adventure?” he asks.  
Arya scoffs, slapping a hand against the leathers covering his chest “Whoah there, might want to make it through your first night sleeping aboard a real ship before planning any future lives as pirates Gendry”  
He laughs back, smirking as he pictures her clad in a real pirates attire, swashbuckling and fierce.  
“And no, I don’t think you’ll be doing yourself any more favours with the smallfolk and other lords if you… how did Davos put it? ‘Go off galavanting with your lady love’’ as soon as we return. We’ll give them a little time before venturing off again.”  
She slips out of his grasp to walk around the desk in front of them, emptying the contents of her satchel in order to find the books Samwell Tarly had sought out for her ahead of their departure. She gives him a moment to piece it all together, to figure out exactly what everything she has said means, what she’s implying about their future.  
The penny drops, and she can tell from the wide smug grin plastered across her bullheaded blacksmith’s face.  
“You want to go to the Stormlands? To Storm’s End?” he asks, already sure of her answer, leaning forward against the edge of the desk.  
“Yes” she replies, mimicking his posture.  
“To stay? Together?”  
“No, I just fancied taking it for myself. Put you to work in the Forge.” she teases. Her grins spreads slowly, but it soon matches Gendry’s in enthusiasm as the two dance around the commitment she is laying down in this moment.  
The two take a beat, revelling in the strangeness of the moment. Despite only having just departed from their homeland, and being uncertain of what this lengthly exploration into the unknown will hold, here they are deciding on what the future would be for them when and if they return after all this.  
“I thought you said you never wanted to be a Lady? If we went back together, people will expect us to be-“ he starts, before Arya leans further forward across the table towards him.  
“Fuck what other people will expect. We’ll do and be whatever we want Gendry. All I know is I do want to have a home again someday. One with you. I want to have adventures and travel. I want to see everything that can be seen, smell and taste and touch the very edges of the world. But it wouldn't mean anything without you, without a home to miss and come back to. I want to have both. And I’ve decided I can” she says assuredly.  
“You’ve decided?”  
“Yep.”  
“Okay…” he laughs, looking at her amusingly.  
“Everything’s different now. I don’t have to choose to have one life or the other anymore. I never wanted what other girls wanted. The traditional provincial life. But we wouldn't have a traditional life, how could we?  
“I’d never ask that of you…again” he adds awkwardly, making her laugh.  
“After everything we’ve been through, I’m pretty damn certain - Gendry Baratheon - that you and I can have any life we want” She reaches across to bring his hand up to cradle it against her cheek. Her own impetuous soft gesture.  
“And what life is that exactly, Arya Stark?” he inquires.  
Before answering, she finally leans in and closes the little distance between them and surprises him in a slow and longing kiss. She tries with all her might to convey her every answer to that question through her lips. How she wants to have a life with everything, after losing so much in the years she’s already had. How, when she thinks of her future now - a future that was often hung in the balance - she wants a duality to it she never desired before.  
She wants to be a leader and a lover.  
A warrior and a wife.  
To have freedom and to have roots.  
To be an individual but still be a part of something bigger than herself. To have an equal partner in it all.  
To be a Lady and be Arya.  
He looks dazed as she pulls back from their kiss. Gendry’s hand having moved from her cheek to the small curve by the nape of her neck.  
“One with you. Whatever that means”  
“As you wish, my lady” 

The End.


End file.
